


life is wine

by coricomile



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: "I see you watch him," Geno says, leaned in so he's talking directly into Jamie's ear. Jamie tenses, but Geno doesn't move away. He drops his arm over Jamie's shoulders and it shouldn't feel like a trap, but it does, even if Geno doesn't do anything other than hold on. "Is hard not look, I know." Sometime after Jamie got distracted by Sidney's ass, Hags had left the booth and subsequently left Jaime alone with Geno, abandoned except for the clutter of empties.





	life is wine

Sidney takes him to lunch the day he flies in. Jamie's tired and starving and still aching a little from the trade. He had seen it coming- he's mediocre at best, never lived up to his draft potential, just one more part of the Stars' bad defensive core that needs to be rebuilt from the bottom up- but it still hurts. Going to a multi-Cup team takes some of the sting out, but he doesn't kid himself that he's ever going to be the next Letang. He'll be a placeholder, until they send him to the A or trade him off. 

"We're happy to have you with us," Sidney says when the waiter disappears with their orders and menus. He leans back against the back of the booth, his knees knocking Jamie's under the table as Jamie fidgets. Jamie had long gotten used to being too big for any place meant to hold him, but he still tries to fold himself in anyway. "Gonch is a hell of a d-coach and he's already got some stuff planned for you."

"Glad to be here," Jamie says, because it's the expected reply. 

Either he'll stay or he won't. Either he'll play or get sent down to the A.. Nothing is in his control, and it's almost better to not fight it most days. He'll work as hard as he can, do everything he's told, but his body can only do so much, and he's mostly okay with being a traded commodity. Mostly. Maybe he's just not a one-team guy. 

"I mean it," Sidney says, fixing Jamie with a hard, considering stare. It's unnerving. Jamie grew up watching Sidney Crosby destroy opponent after opponent on the ice, ate up his interviews for any hint of advice. It's strange to be near him now as two men instead of two players. "Jim doesn't make trades lightly. We've been watching you and we think you're going to do really good stuff with us." He smiles, his eyes scrunching at the corners and his teeth showing between the crooked stretch of his lips. "That's for later though, eh? This isn't an interview. I just like to get to know the new guys. If you need anything, you can call me any time."

"Sure," Jamie says. Sidney grins like he knows Jamie's lying through his teeth, but he lets it drop. 

"So, your birthday's tomorrow, right?" He asks. "I know it's got to be tough coming in mid-season, but we can have a team party for you. Let you meet the guys, get you settled in. You up for it?" 

"Seriously?" Jamie asks before he can think better of it. He's straddling the line between grateful and weirded out. He hadn't known what the expect coming in, but this is- This is something. Sidney shrugs and moves back to let the waitress set their food on the table. 

"Just an idea. I want you to be happy here, man." Sidney pokes at his food for a moment, inspecting it carefully before digging in. "Let me know and I'll throw something together."

Jamie eats his food and tries not to wonder if he's being buttered up so whatever come later doesn't hurt so much. 

\---

Sidney has a dedicated party room in his house. Most of the team is there, bullshitting with each other and wandering up to introduce themselves to Jamie and wish him a happy birthday. He mostly hangs out near the food, picking at the chips and hoping that no one tries to sing to him. He's not a shy guy, not really, but he's been in Pittsburgh for less than 48 hours and he doesn't know if he can handle the forced buddy-buddiness of it. Either he'll make friends or he won't. If he's good at anything, it's letting stuff roll off his back. 

There isn't any singing, but Sidney does bring out Jamie's favorite cake- carrot with walnuts, mentioned exactly once offhandedly during their long lunch- and tells him to get the first piece before the team devours the whole thing. He claps Jamie on the shoulder and wanders off toward the video game setup. Jamie doesn't think he's seen Sidney sit down for longer than five minutes at a time. It gives him a little hope that maybe Sidney's just… like this. 

"D-group meeting," Letang says after the cake's been eaten, throwing a soft punch at Jamie's bicep. Olli and Murray are behind him, and two others that Jamie doesn't know yet. The 'meeting' is apparently an excuse to do shots of spiced rum in Sidney's kitchen, away from the commotion. Olli has been the one to loop around to Jamie over and over all night, offering a few words here and there but mostly just hanging out in silence. Jamie thinks they'll probably get along well.

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this place?" Jamie asks after his fifth consecutive shot. He's supposed to crash in Sidney's guest room, so he's not too worked up about getting totally lit, but the house has three floors and a lot of hallways and he's a little worried he's going to spend all night lost in the maze. 

"Down that hall, second door to the left," Letang says, waving a hand towards one of the three doors that lead out of the kitchen. "Eventually you'll figure this place out. Sidney's great at a lot of stuff, but he's shit at houses." 

Jamie doesn't try to pick that apart, just follows the directions as best as he can with wobbly legs. Olli had made sure that Jamie got doubles for each shot, claiming Jamie's size gave him an advantage over everyone else. He's quiet, but Jamie's got the feeling he's trouble. 

The bathroom is blue and has stripes of ship printed wallpaper all around the baseboards. There's a detailed sketch of some kind of boat's mast unfolding above the toilet, and Jamie loses a little time staring at it, trying to figure out if Sidney chose it or if it was chosen for him, and if it's too soon to make fun of him about it or not. As he's heading down the hall he's pretty sure is the one that leads back to the party room, he hears something thump in the dark and his heart leaps into his throat. He's sure there's a horror movie somewhere with this plot. 

It would be cruel to die in Sidney Crosby's giant, stupid house on his own birthday. 

He backs against the wall and holds his breath. He doesn't know if it's better to embrace it or fight it, and he's still deciding when he hears a laugh and then sees Sidney round the corner. Relief floods through him like another shot and Jamie sags against the wall. He's never, _ever_ telling anyone about this. Sidney laughs again and then Malkin is there, too, draping himself over Sidney's back. 

"Terrible host," Malkin says, his voice carrying through the hall. Sidney says something back that Jamie can't hear and then- Oh. Well. 

Jamie backtracks the way he came and leaves Sidney and Malkin making out behind him. He eventually finds his way back to the kitchen. Olli is asleep on the counter, his back hunched in a way that's probably going to kill him tomorrow, and Murray is sitting next to him on his phone. He looks up sharply when Jamie bumps into the refrigerator. 

"Find it?" He asks. He stands up and stretches, carefully avoiding Olli as he moves around the counter to join Jamie near the fridge. 

"Uh, yeah." Jamie looks back over his shoulder, like maybe Sidney and Malkin will be behind him. Murray pulls out two bottles of water, gives one to Jamie, and claps him on the shoulder. 

"The first time you say fag is the first time we all hurt you," Murray says, his voice low but cheerful. His fingers dig into Jamie's bicep in four sharp points. "Team or no, we'll break your bones and call it an accident." 

Jamie has a good three inches and at least thirty pounds on him, but Murray has over a dozen guys willing to be his backup at the snap of his fingers. Not that it's ever going to be an issue. He'd had his talk with Benn when he got caught, which had been awkward and stilted and a little painful. He doesn't think he'll have to have the same talk with Sidney. 

"Got it," he says. Matt smiles, slow and a little dopey and lets go. "Sid opened the rink up. Ready to see some dumb shit?"

"Always," Jamie says, relieved as the tension snaps out of the room. 

When the party starts to break up, Sidney shows him to a guest room and tells him they'll get breakfast in the morning before they go to the rink. Jamie's big, but he doesn't think he fills up space in the same way Sidney does, like he's the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. 

"Thanks," Jamie says. He's definitely drunk, the hangover already looming in the too near future, and he's in an entirely wrong part of the country in what's basically a stranger's house, and he's _tired_ from everything, but he means it. The whole team clearly loves Sidney- some maybe more than others- and it looks like he actually deserves it. 

Sidney grins and waves it off. He waits for Jamie to crawl into the bed, still mostly dressed, before shutting off the lights and closing the door. Jamie thinks he hears someone outside the door talking, but he passes out before he can think to wonder about it. 

\---

Gonch is stern man with a flat mouth that looks almost perpetually unamused. The first time Jamie meets him, he asks a lot of carefully worded questions about Jamie's play, about what he's thinking about on and off the ice, and makes a plan to get Jamie up to speed with the rest of them. It already feels like more than the Stars did for him, which is a guilty, mean thought that Jamie holds onto out of spite. 

He misses Dallas sometimes. He misses the weather and the friends he'd made, and he knows that he owes them more than he was able to repay. No matter how many times Gonch tells him he's there to stay, there to _play_ , Jamie still wonders if it's just nice words to get him to work harder. It doesn't matter- he's already working as hard as he can, and if that's not good enough, it'll never be good enough. 

He spends a lot of time at Sidney's house with the unmarried and new guys to fill what few free hours he has. There's always people there, coming in and out like they've got permanent passes. Jamie had felt strange the first time he'd taken Sidney up on an invitation for lunch, but Geno had greeted him at the door with a big smile and ushered him into the kitchen, where Olli and Conor were following Sidney around like ducklings, carrying vegetables and sandwich ingredients. 

There's always people, but there's also always Geno, loud and boisterous and glued to Sidney's side. Jamie tries not to make it a thing, but he can't help watching them together. They're not- It's not obvious that they're fucking, or doing whatever they're doing, but Sidney leans into Geno whenever he's around, and Geno has the habit of laying an arm over Sidney's shoulder, looming next to him like a chatty bodyguard. 

Sidney doesn't touch the guys often- a friendly pat on the back, a bro fist to say hello and goodbye- but Geno is always in his space, always touching him casually, confidently, and Sidney gravitates around him like Geno's his sun. Jamie tries not to notice, but he thinks a lot about the way Sidney had laughed as Geno pushed him against the wall, the way Geno had been so entitled to Sidney's body in a way no one else is. It's distracting, but it's a good distraction. 

Jamie probably shouldn't jerk off to locker room glimpses of Sidney's ass, of Geno's dick. He probably shouldn't think about how those parts fit together. He probably shouldn't think about a lot of things, but he knows himself, knows what he likes, and knows that as long as he keeps his mouth shut it's fine. He can have his dirty secret. 

\---

The Yotes are a fucking joke. Jamie almost feels bad for them. Almost. 

The team wraps up a neat 5-1 win and head out to celebrate after. Jamie wonders for a split second if he could get away with sneaking off to a dispensary and finding himself a good old fashioned fun time brownie, but he actually wants to play, wants to keep Sully and Gonch and Sidney proud of him, so he ignores that particular siren call and goes to the bar Shearsy found on Yelp with everyone else. 

The bar is dark and has loud dance music and cocktails themed after historical figures. Jamie does six shots named after past presidents and hits the dance floor, loose and a little sloppy. There's no hiding how huge he is, and he's mostly gotten over it. It's what he's stuck with. He's not going to shrink down any time soon. If he gets weird looks from panicky guys with Napoleon complexes or too-obvious girls trying to climb the very, very wrong tree- well. He's used to it. 

When the music switches over to some weird techno remix of a ballad, he staggers back over to one of the booths the team has claimed and downs the dregs of someone's forgotten beer. It tastes like shit, some fancy pale ale that's mostly hops, but Jamie's drunk enough not to care. 

He ends up next to Geno and across the table from Hags, who are arguing about something. The music is too loud and both of their accents are too thick for Jamie to really make out what they're saying, but he orders a fruity cocktail from the passing waitress and nods along whenever either one of them look at him for confirmation. Sometimes, he wonders if he should try to learn another language- something more than the high school Spanish he's mostly forgotten- but choosing just one and sticking to it is as intimidating as taking a slapshot to the thigh from Chara. He's never been great at book learning anyway. 

He lets himself drift away from the conversation when his hurricane is delivered, sucking idly at his straw. Knuckles and Jeff are dancing together not too far away, awkwardly holding onto each other and laughing just loud enough that Jamie can pick out their voices from the crowd. Not too far away, Sidney and Phil are playing pool, both of them clearly out for blood. Neither one of them knows how to turn it off. 

Sidney bends over to line up a shot, those famously sharp eyes of his squinted as he considers his angles, and Jamie cant help looking at the obscene jut of his ass. It's just- it's just so _big_ and _round_ , his jeans pulled tight over the swell of it. Jamie's seen that ass in full, glorious nudity- Sidney's not shy about being naked in the room, doesn't rush to get dressed like some of the guys do, even when the media is present- but there's something about the way the denim hugs him just right that really, really turns Jamie's crank. 

"I see you watch him," Geno says, leaned in so he's talking directly into Jamie's ear. Jamie tenses, but Geno doesn't move away. He drops his arm over Jamie's shoulders and it shouldn't feel like a trap, but it does, even if Geno doesn't do anything other than hold on. "Is hard not look, I know." Sometime after Jamie got distracted by Sidney's ass, Hags had left the booth and subsequently left Jaime alone with Geno, abandoned except for the clutter of empties. 

"You're a lucky guy," Jamie says, because it feels like the safest option. Geno laughs and tugs Jamie closer in a sideways hug. He smells like whiskey and expensive cologne, a little like the reek of pads that doesn't go away even if you scrub until the skin goes red. 

"Yes, most lucky," Geno says, and he sounds like he really means it. He leans in closer, his mouth right up against Jamie's ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Jamie's spine. "Sid, he like big guys, you know? And I want make him happy always."

"You, uh, seem to be doing a pretty good job," Jamie says. Sidney is currently laughing at whatever Phil is saying, his face scrunched and his whole body shaking. Jamie can feel Geno puffing up next to him, his chest against Jamie's side. 

"I'm good, how is say- provider?" Geno squeezes Jamie's shoulder, his fingertips digging in. "I show you, if you want." Jamie's head snaps around on its own accord, his nose bumping against Geno's forehead hard enough to sting. 

"What?" Jamie asks. He's got enough booze in him to be on the far side of tipsy, but even his full on drunk brain couldn't imagine Geno Malkin proposing a _demonstration_ of him fucking Sidney Goddamn Crosby. 

"You talk nice to Sid," Geno says, like he's suggesting going over a play. His lips brush over Jamie's jaw, barely there at all, and Jamie shivers. "We show you good time."

Jamie's saved from having to say anything by Dumo and Olli falling into the seat across from them, arguing about a TV show Jamie hasn't seen. Geno lets him go, leaning over the table to add on to the conversation like he's hasn't just totally rocked Jamie's entire world. Jamie downs the rest of his drink and orders another. Maybe it'll make sense in the morning. 

\---

It doesn't make sense in the morning. It doesn't make sense the next week, or the week after. 

Jamie plays hockey. He plays the best damn hockey of his life and hangs out with the guys and tentatively starts carving out a life for himself in Pittsburgh. He doesn't exactly ignore Sidney's invitations to lunches at his place, he just makes himself busy at those times. He doesn't know if he can be in a room with Sidney and Geno being, well, Sidney and Geno, without getting too many pants feelings. 

It almost works until Sidney corners him after a D practice. He's in shorts and a sweaty t-shirt, his hat on backwards, clearly just done in the weight room. He smiles as he sits down next to Jamie's stall, grabbing a spare roll of tape to toss back and forth between his hands. Jamie carefully hangs his shoulderpads up and tries to remember what he acted liked before. 

"Hey," Sidney says. "Haven't seen you around much lately. Just want to check in."

"You see me all the time," Jamie says, because it's true. The whole team is at the rink almost all day every day. Sidney raises his eyebrows and Jamie focuses on unstrapping his shin pads. 

"Geno said he'd talked you," Sidney says. Jamie doesn't exactly flinch, but he feels his muscles going tight in anticipation. He doesn't have Sidney's lung capacity, but his legs are longer. He's got no shame about running full speed away in his spandex. "I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. He doesn't always know how to be subtle, you know?"

"It's cool," Jamie says. He still can't quite make himself look at Sidney's face as he lays out the rest of his pads to air dry. "I know he didn't mean anything."

"I mean," Sidney says slowly, drawing it out. He nudges Jamie's ankle with his sneaker, ducking his head to meet Jamie's eyes. "He did. It was kind of tactless, but the offer was genuine. If, uh. If that's what you were worried about."

"How long have you and Geno been together?" Jamie asks, one of the poorest deflections he's ever made. Sidney doesn't look like he's buying it, but he does lean back against the stall, giving Jamie a few extra inches of breathing space.

"Since the first Cup," he says, the corner of his mouth curled into a smile. "I know it's super cliche or whatever, but-" He shrugs. "Sometimes you just know, eh?"

"I'll think about it. " Jamie will definitely be thinking about it- in the showers, first thing in the morning, when he can't sleep- but thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. 

"No rush. You should start coming over again. The guys miss having you around." Sidney knocks his knuckles against Jamie's shoulders and stands up. "You're doing good out there. Keep it up."

Pittsburgh, Jamie thinks as he finishes stripping, is definitely an interesting place. 

\---

Sidney hosts a party to celebrate going to the playoffs. Jamie very carefully does his hair and dresses in his nicest shorts and a polo. He's going to pull a Geno and drop his _yes, I'd love to have sex with you guys, please_ into a random part of the conversation and then run from the consequences as soon as he's allowed to. According to Olli, this is the last time they're allowed to drink without getting disappointed looks from Sidney, and Jamie is going to _get drunk_. He's earned it. Even Gonch said so. 

Geno is, as always, the one to open the door when Jamie knocks. He drags Jamie into a half-hug on the porch, holding his beer off to the side to keep it out of danger. He's in camo cargo shorts and a grey shirt with his number on it, his face pink enough that Jamie wonders how long he's been drinking. It's only two in the afternoon, but if Olli's right and booze is off the table for- hopefully- the next couple of months, Jamie can understand the urge to get a jump on the day. 

Jamie's not the first to arrive, but he's not the last. There's a few kids of varying ages running around, watched over by an unimpressed looking teenager that probably belongs to one of the vets. Jamie doesn't hate kids, exactly, but he feels weird around them- too young and dumb to be any sort of parental figure, too old to understand the in-jokes- and he gives them a wide berth on his way to the party room. It's almost surprising to realize he's figured out the maze of halls, even with his short period of avoidance. 

It's easy to forget about his mission once he's been given a drink and drafted to be Dumo's beer pong partner. He _likes_ this team. He likes Olli's quiet commentary, and Tanger's endless snide comments, and Horny and Hags' ever present need to group hug the people closest to them for every perceived victory, and Geno's endless, lazy chirping. He likes that he's been roped in and made into a part of this team without having to do anything other than try. Dallas was fine, but he never felt like he was more than a plug in the dam.

"Hey," Sidney says as Jamie steps back from the pong table after his turn. He and Dumo are crushing Shearsy and Rusty, but the downside of that is that instead of chugging beer, he's been drinking the weird concoctions Olli has been bringing him. He's not drunk, but he's definitely on the way there. "Glad you came out."

"Me too," Jamie says, because he is. Sidney smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up, before moving on to do- whatever a host does. He hasn't sat down as far as Jamie's seen, and either he's been working on the same beer for the last few hours, or he's way less of a lightweight than Tanger claims. Jamie wonders if Sidney's just naturally inclined to not like being drunk, or if it's another part of his _good leader_ checklist. 

By time Hags' wife declares the food properly laid out, Jamie is starving and most definitely drunk. He keeps knocking into things and people. Tanger's kid has decided that Jamie is his new favorite person and has been following him around like a tail, so he's been trying to watch his language, but he fails spectacularly when he somehow manages to cut his arm on a framed photo of Team Canada that's too close to the edge of the mantle. 

Alex doesn't look too scandalized by Jamie's swearing, but Olli and Dumo look like they're going to bring it up forever. Fantastic.

"You mess," Geno says, from out of nowhere, grinning. He's loose limbed and even pinker than when he'd answered the door, his face a little shiny with sweat. 

"Fuck you," Jamie says, because he's absolutely not. There's just a lot of himself to control and he lost fine motor skills right after Tanger had brought him something made with a little of every type of booze in the liquor cabinet. Apparently, he's Letang catnip. Geno snorts. 

"Mess," he says again. "Come. We get you bandaid. Don't bleed on Sid's stuff."

Jamie follows sullenly behind Geno to the first floor bathroom, the sounds of people arguing over who gets first shot at team favorite foods turning into a muffled background blur. Geno bounces off the bathroom door when he enters- karmic proof that drunks shouldn't make fun of other drunks- but he knows exactly where the first-aid kit is and he shoves at Jamie until he's sitting on the counter next to the sink, his shorts getting damp from run off no one bothered to wipe up. 

"I can do this myself," Jamie says, because he's not so uselessly shitfaced that he can't slap on a bandaid, but Geno just waves him off and leans in to inspect the cut. 

It's weird having someone that isn't a trainer or, like, his mom carefully wiping up the barely-even-there trail of blood on his arm. Geno's hands are warm and big and careful, and Jamie shivers. He imagines one of those hands around his cock, wonders if Geno's this careful in bed, or if he's a pusher. He shakes his head when Geno pats him on the freshly bandaged area and declares him good to go. He's not getting a boner in Sidney's bathroom when there are _children_ around. 

He waits until Geno's bent over, tucking the first aid kit back into the cabinet where it belongs, to drop his mostly forgotten bomb. 

"So, I think I'm ready for you and Sid to give me that good time." He laughs when Geno knocks his head on the sink and beats a hasty retreat to the kitchen. If he's lucky, there might even be food left. 

\---

Jamie wakes up in Sidney's downstairs bathroom when Guntz staggers in to piss and nearly screams the house down when he sees Jamie in the bathtub. Jamie groans and throws a bottle of shampoo at him. He definitely puked last night and his stomach is still turning and his body feels swollen and dehydrated. He makes Guntz help him out of the tub and leaves him to his business. He hopes to God someone made coffee. 

Apparently God is on Jamie's side today; there's a pot of coffee on the kitchen counter and a box of bagels and cream cheese, both already open and broken into. Shearsy, looking worse for wear, is hunched over the dining room table, gnawing on a cheese bagel and staring off into space. Next to him, Olli is asleep face first on the table, his coffee still steaming next to him. 

Jamie pours himself a cup, snags the driest looking bagel he can find and shuffles toward the living room. His body is stiff from sleeping in the tub all night, and his skin feels sticky and gross, slicked down with soap scum and dirt. He didn't look in the mirror, but if anyone drew on his face with Sharpie, he'll personally hang them from the rafters by their jock. 

He draws up short as he crosses over the threshold to the living room. Sidney and Geno are on the couch, Geno stretched out along it, his head in Sidney's lap and his legs dangling off the arm. Sidney has a tablet in the hand he isn't using to comb through Geno's hair. It's a tender moment and Jamie's not awake enough to unpack all the ways he feels about it. Maybe later he'll take out the weirdness and pick over it. Maybe. 

"Hey. How're you feeling?" Sidney asks. Jamie wants to laugh, but his mouth is too full of bagel and he nearly chokes himself instead. 

"Alright," Jamie says when the coughing has stopped. Geno cracks open one eye, a lazy cat whose sleep's been disturbed. He sits up slowly, making a show of stretching out before patting the cushion between them. 

"Come sit," Geno says. Sidney raises his eyebrows and sets the tablet down on the coffee table in front of him. Either he's playing it really, really cool, or- "We tell Sid what you say."

Well, Jamie thinks as he takes another too-big bite of bagel, in for a penny. He squeezes between them as best he can, but the couch is only so big and Geno hasn't given him a lot of room. He has to twist to one side or the other to fit, which means he'll only actually be able to see one of them at a time. In the end, he sets his coffee on the table, plants his ass on Geno's thigh, and looks at Sidney. It feels like the smarter choice. 

Someone had told him once that Geno is a master chess player. Right now, Jamie can believe it. 

"Last night," Geno says, leaning over Jamie's shoulder, "Jamie tell me he wants good time." 

"Did he?" Sidney asks. He looks between them, that intensity switch he seems to be able to control fully turned on. For a split second, Jamie thinks this is how a puck must feel whenever Sidney's near it. He can never, ever say that out loud and have dignity left. 

It's less easy having it all out there without the comforting, soothing song of alcohol running through him, but Jamie's never been a coward. They're the ones that brought this up. Jamie's got the least to worry about, even if his heart is still going a little too fast. He considers his options before leaning into the press of Geno's chest at his back. They're both too warm and a little sticky with last night's sweat, but Sidney's eyes track the movement, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. 

"I'm up for the possibility," Jamie says. He can't flirt worth a shit- either whoever he's talking to thinks he's hot or they don't, he's not going to work that hard to change their mind- but Geno's words from what feels like forever ago are echoing in his head. Sidney likes big guys, and Jamie's definitely the biggest one in the room. He's willing to let that work in his favor as much as it can. 

"You know you don't have to, right?" Sidney asks, even as Geno's arm snakes around Jamie's waist. It's innocent enough- Shearsy is almost always stuck sitting on someone's lap, and it's just being a good friend to hold him in place so he doesn't break something by falling- but the way Geno's fingers spread out over his side is less friendly and more predatory. Sidney's eyes flick down, drawn by the movement. 

Jamie doesn't particularly want his first threesome to be on a couch with a potential audience of hungover teammates, but there's evidence of Geno's interest poking Jamie in the ass and Sidney's face and throat are slowly turning pink in an incredibly attractive way. He can definitely be swayed. 

"Yeah, but I want to," Jamie says.

"See." Geno squeezes his arm around Jamie's middle. "No fuss."

"Yeah," Jamie says, because Sidney's scrutiny is starting to make him squirm in ways that have nothing to do with his dick. He's just a regular guy, but it feels like he's staring straight into Jamie's head and not sure he likes what he's seeing. "No fuss." 

"No fuss," Sidney repeats. There's a beat of uncomfortable silence before Sidney grins, crooked and wide. "Alright then. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

\---

Sidney and Geno's bedroom is surprisingly normal. Jamie doesn't know what he'd been expecting- some sort of hockey altar in the closet, maybe, or a dartboard with Giroux's face on the back of the door- but it's just a room painted a very light shade of blue, with a massive bed, two dressers, and a ship's steering wheel hanging above the door to the ensuite bathroom. The wheel's a little weird, but Jamie still has a Batman throw blanket, so he can't really judge. 

He hasn't spent all day agonizing about this, but it's been at the back of his mind, a little frisson of excitement lingering just under his skin. He'd taken extra pains to go through his routine as normally as possible, but every so often he'd think of Sidney's sly grin or Geno's big, careful hands and have to fight off the impending boner. Now that he's finally here, he doesn't exactly know what to do with himself. 

"You're really sure about this?" Sidney asks. He's hovering in the middle of the room, hands in the pockets of his shorts. Geno had flopped down onto the bed as soon as they got close enough and he's still there, spread out almost wide enough to take up the whole thing, propped up against a throne of pillows. 

Jamie's not really sure at all- if it goes south, he's the expendable man here, not either one of them- but Sidney's been unerringly kind since Jamie first stepped foot in Pittsburgh, and Geno's the one that invited him in the first place. Jamie doesn't think Sidney's going to kick him off the team if he says no or is a shitty lay. It's enough. 

"I'm sure," he says. Sidney looks like he's going to say something else, but Geno throws his balled up shirt between them and startles both of them out of their weird staring match. 

"He's say yes, Sid." Geno sighs, annoyed like they've talked about this without Jaime there to hear it. Jamie wants to know if it had been a clinical talk about semantics, or if they'd been more graphic- if they'd talked about how he'd fit into bed with them while they were fucking, if they planned this out. He wonders what expectations he's supposed to live up to. "Stop overthinking."

"I'm not overthinking, I'm just asking-" Sidney rolls his eyes as he cuts himself off, flashing Jamie a crooked smile. "Hey." He takes a careful step forward, tilting his head back to look Jamie in the eye. He's so wide, but even Geno, who is a hulking, looming presence, is small next to Jamie. 

Jamie carefully rests his hand on Sidney's hip, hooking his thumb into the stretched waist of his shorts. He glances over his shoulder at Geno, his heart beating quick in his chest like he's about to rob a bank or steal a car, but Geno's just watching them, one of his hands on the softest part of his stomach, his thumb rubbing lazily back and forth over the dark hair leading down into his shorts. This is either going to be the best or the strangest day of Jamie's life. Possibly both. 

"Hey," Jamie says back, a little late. He leans down and kisses the corner of Sidney's mouth, the sharp edge of his jaw. He doesn't hear Sidney's breath hitch, but he feels the jump of Sidney's chest against his. Sidney turns his head, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Jamie's throat, and then they're kissing properly. 

Sidney takes the lead like it's assumed, wrapping one arm around Jamie's back and pulling him in closer, his free hand sinking into Jamie's hair and holding him down. It's a slow kiss, kept slow by the tug of Sidney's hand every time Jamie tries to push for more. It's easy to follow his lead, though, and if Sidney wants to be in charge, Jamie has no urge to fight him for it. He'll kneel on the ground and beg right now if Sidney wants him to. He hasn't been laid in _so fucking long_.

"You should kiss Geno," Sidney says against Jamie's jaw when he pulls away, nipping the point of his chin with sharp teeth. 

"Yeah," Jamie says dumbly. His brain isn't quite all in his dick yet, but he doesn't think it's going to take long. "Sure." 

Geno is still watching from the bed, his eyes dark and his lips parted. He sits up against the headboard, adjusting one of the pillows behind his back. His dick is a pronounced swell through his shorts, tenting them up tight when he spreads his thighs, smug and shameless. Jamie likes a man that knows he's hot. 

He kneels over Geno's lap, bracing himself against Geno's chest. His skin burns against Jamie's palm. He tips his head back against the headboard and raises his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth curled into a self-satisfied smirk that hits Jamie right in the dick. 

"I'm supposed to kiss you now," Jamie says. Geno grins and reaches around to grab Jamie's ass. 

"So do it," he says, still laughing a little when Jamie leans in. 

Jamie expects Geno to drive the same way Sidney had, but Geno seems fine enough letting Jamie take the lead, lazy but responsive. His mouth is so fucking big, and his hand is too, fingers spread wide over Jamie's ass, his thumb stroking over the small of Jamie's back in time with the swipe of his tongue against Jamie's lip. Jamie almost forgets about Sidney, lost in the need to make Geno rise to his bait, but he remembers abruptly when he feels the bed shift, Sidney settling in next to them. 

"Don't stop," Sidney instructs quietly, and- hey. Jamie is good at following orders. 

He settles in and does his best to impress. He's younger than both of them, but he's made it his own personal mission to make out with as many people as possible since he was fourteen, and they've been hooking up only with each other for- god. A really long time. First cup, Sidney had said. A decade of the same person sounds boring as hell. Then again, he thinks as he feels Sidney's hand creeping up Geno's stomach, his knuckles dragging over Jamie's knee, that's what threesomes are for.

The room is cold, but sweat is already starting to gather in the dip of Jamie's back, his shirt sticking to him. It's as good an excuse as any to pull back and take it off. Sidney's watching him, eyes tracking down over Jamie's chest, lingering on his abs. Jamie flexes as best as he can. He's more than happy to provide eye candy. 

"You too," Geno says, nudging Sidney with his knee. He skims his fingertips down Jamie's back and up again as Sidney stands up and does as he's told. He ups the game by stepping neatly out of his shorts, tossing them toward the open closet door. "Good. Now come here." 

"You're so fucking bossy," Sidney says as he climbs back onto the bed. Jamie gets out of the way when Sidney kneels next to them. Sidney braces himself with one hand on the headboard and takes his turn with Geno. 

Jamie can't pick where to look- Sidney's blatantly shown off everything, the close-up view of Sidney kissing Geno like he's going to devour him whole, the way Geno's nails drag down Sidney's chest, leaving white streaks behind. He's hit with a moment of sheer surrealism. He's half naked with Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, his lips a little sore from making out with them. It's like a high school fantasy come to life, and he owes it to his less awesome past self to make the best of it. 

He kicks his shorts and boxers off before he gives his dick a squeeze, a bare promise of what's coming to it soon. Probably, he thinks, going straight for Sidney's ass would be a bad idea. Instead, he slides his palm over the curve of Sidney's back, up to his wide, wide shoulders. He tests the hard muscle of Sidney's thigh under his palm, the skinny stretch of Geno's calf. Sidney pulls Geno's head to the side in a blatant invitation and Jamie obediently drops his mouth to Geno's bared throat. The skin is warm and a little salty, and it's easy to follow that path down to the wide stretch of Geno's chest, easy to turn his head and give a sucking kiss to one of Sidney's flat, pink nipples, loses himself in the miles of skin he's been given access to. 

"You should suck Geno off," Sidney says. It's not quite a command, but Jamie's been hardwired to listen to him since arriving in Pittsburgh and he would have eventually gotten around to it anyway. 

"Yes," Geno says, even as he gently pushes Sidney aside to gracelessly remove his underwear. "You do now." 

Jamie's not an exhibitionist, but he's not shy. He's got a hot body, he hasn't heard too many complaints about his face, and Sidney and Geno both look at him like he's a feast waiting to be devoured. He's willing to put on a show. 

He lays between Geno's spread thighs and mouths at the fat head of his cock. He takes his time, gets him wet with big, showy swipes of his tongue. Someone puts a hand in his hair and holds him down near Geno's heavy balls, and Jamie gets those wet too. 

Later, when he lifts his head to wipe a wrist over his mouth, he's rewarded with the sight of Sidney kneeling next to them, slowly rocking his hips down against Geno's hand. His thigh is too big for Jamie to see what's happening, but he's got a pretty good imagination. They're both watching him, and the attention makes Jamie shiver. 

"Don't stop." Sidney curls his fingers tighter in Jamie's hair, guiding him gently back down. Jamie obediently sucks the head of Geno's cock into his mouth and feels a rush of smug satisfaction when Geno groans. "No." Sidney carefully pulls Jamie back by his hair, giving him just enough leverage to tongue at the slit of Geno's cock. "Like that."

"Worst, Sid." 

Jamie watches Sidney ride Geno's hand, slow and leisurely like he's got all the time in the world, and does his best to drive Geno out of his mind. His own cock is aching, hanging heavy between his thighs, neglected and angry about it. He's too proud to hump the bed, but he's not totally against it. Not if he keeps having to listen to Geno's throaty moans and Sidney's sharp, stilted breaths. 

"G," Sidney says, pulling Jamie off again. He lets go, catches his thumb on Jamie's lower lip and Jamie kisses it, his mouth sloppy with spit and a little sore. Geno grumbles but climbs out from under them, rough as he knocks Sidney into the space he'd been occupying. Sidney laughs and crawls onto his hands and knees, his glorious ass almost haloed by the light from the lamps. 

"Come here," Geno orders, and it takes Jamie a moment to realize he means him. He scrambles to obey, knees slipping on the sheets. Geno tugs him into place, both of them kneeling behind Sidney, Geno at Jamie's back. "Open." 

He hands Jamie a shiny gold packet and Jamie rips it open with shaking hands before giving it back. He could put the condom on himself, but he wants someone else to touch him and he's been thinking about Geno's big fucking hands for months. Geno huffs a laugh but rolls it onto him, giving Jamie a few quick, tight strokes that makes Jamie's stomach clench. 

"I show you how he likes," Geno says against Jamie's ear, resting his free hand on Jamie's hip. Jamie wants to just sink in, rut against Sidney's ridiculous ass until he gets off, but he's got the feeling he's mostly a toy here, meant to please them instead of enjoy himself and, well- he's into it. He can wait to get his if this is the game they're going to play. 

He leans against Geno's chest and watches Sidney's hole stretch around the head of his cock as Geno slowly, slowly guides him in. Jamie's entire body tingles, his skin over sensitive to everything. Geno stops after just the tip is in, and Sidney and Jamie groan together. Sidney is so _tight_ and Jamie has to fight the urge to push against Geno's loose hold on him. 

"This deep for now," Geno says, his lips brushing over Jamie's throat. "Slow." Both of those things sound terrible, but Geno rolls his hips, guiding Jamie's along with him and Jamie is willing to reconsider. 

They fuck Sidney like that together, slow and measured and achingly frustrating. Sidney loosens up around him and when he pushes back, they fuck him deeper, but no faster. Jamie feels trapped in the best sort of way. He grabs double handfuls of Sidney's ass and squeezes, spreads him open wider to get a better view. Geno laughs into his ear and Jamie shivers. 

"Harder," he says, dropping his hands from Jamie's hips. He's still there- blocking Jamie from pulling out too far, his hot, huge cock rubbing against Jamie's ass, the tip leaving a wet spot in the small of his back- but Jamie can finally, _finally_ go at his own speed. 

He grabs Sidney's hips, fingers sinking into the sharp cut of them, and fucks into him like it's the last thing he's ever going to do. Maybe it is. Sidney's like a vice around his cock, and Jamie's having trouble breathing, the air so hot and humid around them that it feels like more effort than it's worth. Geno skims a hand over Jamie's back, down to his ass, squeezing tight before letting go. Jamie doesn't think he could take all on his first try, but the idea of Geno fucking him while he fucks Sidney is almost to much. 

"You want come back again," Geno says, stroking two fingers over Jamie's hole, "you don't come until after Sid." Jamie closes his eyes and hangs his head, fucking in harder. The tips of Geno's fingers slide against him when he moves back, just a tease of pressure and stretch. 

"Take it ea- _fuck_ \- take it easy on him." Sidney gropes at Jamie's thigh, his nails digging into Jamie's skin, trying to pull him in deeper. Jamie tries to focus on that instead of the tight, tight, tight clutch of Sidney's body or the way Geno's cock is rubbing between his thighs, mystically repositioned when he wasn't paying attention. 

"He fuck you," Geno says, letting his fingers sink in just a little. "I take very easy on him." Sidney laughs, which does all sorts of interesting things to Jamie's dick. 

"I can't. Holy fuck." Jamie grinds to a halt, as deep into Sidney as he possibly get. His entire body feels like lead and air at the same time, his stomach clenched tight. If he moves, if he _breathes_ he's going to blow. 

"Need to see how to do," Geno says, his voice rough. He clicks his tongue, but his hands are gentle on Jamie's hips as he carefully pulls him away. Jamie doesn't quite whimper when his dick slides out of Sidney's hole, vibrantly red even through the shiny layer of the condom, but it's a near thing. "You sit and watch."

"Fuck you," Jamie mutters, reaching down to hold his aching cock against his belly. _Christ_ he wants to come so bad. 

"When you not hairtrigger," Geno says, guiding Jamie down onto the mattress next to Sidney. Sidney laughs, turning his pink, sweaty face towards Jamie. The corners of his eyes are wet and his mouth looks swollen, like he's been chewing at it while Jamie was fucking him. Jamie wants to kiss him, so he does. 

"Hang on," Sidney says a little breathlessly, sitting back on his heels. His cock is fat and swollen against his tight abs, the head shiny and closer to purple than red. "Sit up against the headboard." Jamie drags himself up on shaky arms and tries not to jump when Sidney reaches down to take the condom off. 

"Ruin him for other boys, Sid," Geno mutters as Sidney settles himself between Jamie's spread legs, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Jamie's hips. His fucking ridiculous mouth hovers over Jamie's cock, the hot gust of his breath sending goosebumps over Jamie's skin. 

"That's the goal." Sidney laughs again, giddy, and Jamie knows right then he will never, ever have sex this good again. 

"Fuck," he says, which pretty much sums it up. 

The bed shifts as Geno leans over them both, one hand on Sidney's back, the other guiding his cock in. Sidney's breath stutters, his fingers clenching in the sheets. God, it has to hurt at least a little. Jamie tucks his hand into Sidney's and lets him squeeze, watches the strain all across Geno's body as he pushes steadily forward until he's all the way in, chest pressed to Sidney's back. 

"Good, Sid," Geno says softly. "Take care of minute man."

"Hey!"

Sidney laughs again, but Jamie will take that hit to his pride if it means he gets Sidney's mouth around his cock. He can't see much, which is a bummer for his spank bank but probably the best for his stamina. He leans back against the headboard and digs his fingernails into his own thigh as Sidney sucks him off in time to Geno's slow thrusts. 

Jamie has to pull him off twice, his fingers tight in Sidney's thick hair, his balls absolutely aching. He doesn't want this to end, wants to be in this endless loop of toe curling pleasure forever, but Sidney is really fucking good at giving head and Jamie is only human. The third time, Geno sits back on his heels, dragging his hands down Sidney's spine. 

"Warm up over," he says. Jamie groans pathetically as Sidney pulls his mouth away. He's lost all track of time and he doesn't know if it's been too long or not long enough. 

"Okay," Sidney says. "Let's do it." Geno catches Jamie's eye and they grin at each other before Geno just fucking _goes for it_. 

Sidney shoves his face against Jamie's stomach and sets his teeth against Jamie's skin, not quite biting down. His legs give out on him quickly, knees sliding on the sheets, and he's heavy on Jamie's thighs, his chest pinning them down. Jamie drops a hand into his sweaty hair and holds him there, helps brace him against Geno's bed-breaking thrusts. Every few moments Sidney seems to remember he's supposed to be sucking Jamie's cock and reaches out blindly with his mouth, sucking and licking distractedly before breaking off to bury his face into Jamie's hip again. That's it's own special kind of torture. He'll be jerking off forever to the memory of his cock leaving a spit-wet smear over Sidney's cheek, Sidney's red, swollen mouth open and panting. 

"Geno," Sidney gasps and Geno hauls him up. Sidney flails for a second before reaching back to grab Geno's hips, urging him on harder. 

It puts him entirely on display- his heaving chest, his spread thighs, his cock straining up against his tensed abs. And Jamie, he can't resist that sort of offer. He ducks down and takes Sidney's cock into his mouth, sucking hard at the head, the angle too awkward to do much more. Not that it seems to matter; Sidney jerks back and forth between them, swearing with broken, half-formed words. 

"I'm gonna- G-" Sidney grabs at Jamie's hair, clumsy and too hard, and Jamie reluctantly pulls off. Geno's hand replaces his mouth almost immediately, and Sidney goes suddenly silent and still. Geno says something inaudible in his ear and Sidney nearly shakes apart as he comes all over Jamie's chest and Geno's fist. " _Fuck._ "

"You hold," Geno grunts before shoving Sidney into Jamie's arms. 

Jamie scrambles to catch his balance. Sidney is fucking heavy and not doing much to help hold himself up, and Jamie is feeling the complete and total strength of Geno's lower body by proxy. Geno gets in a handful of rhythmless thrusts and then growls like an animal, pushing so hard into Sidney that Jamie has to reach back to brace himself on the bed. No condom, Jamie remembers, and his cock throbs. He's going to die if he doesn't get off right the fuck now. 

He carefully drops Sidney- and Geno still on top of him- and jerks off as soon as his hands are free. He's too rough and it's too dry but it doesn't matter at all because he comes in five seconds flat, his whole body jerking like he's been hit in the stomach. It feels like it lasts forever, his thighs shaking and his balls aching as he stripes Geno's back. He falls onto the bed like a felled tree, bouncing once. 

"Holy shit." He doesn't think he'll ever be able to move again. Someone pats him weakly on the stomach and that's the last thing he remembers. 

\--- 

Jamie wakes up to an empty bed, the quilt wrapped tightly around him. Someone must have wiped him down after he'd fallen asleep, because he smells a little sweat sour, but he doesn't feel any itchy jizz patches anywhere. He yawns and reluctantly rolls to his feet. At some point today, he's supposed to meet with Tanger and Olli and Dumo and go over notes before their next game, but he feels lazy and still a little sex drunk, his body humming with new energy. 

Sidney and Geno are in the kitchen, arguing about omelet fillings, the coffee pot between them. Sidney sees Jamie first and he waves him over, grabbing another mug from the cabinet before Jamie even needs to ask. Jamie sits next to Geno at the counter, their shoulders bumping, and Geno drags him into the debate. In the end, it doesn't matter because Sidney is the one that's cooking and it's his fridge they're raiding.

Probably, Jamie thinks as he eats with them, things should be weird now. At least one of them should be giving him the cold shoulder or refusing to talk to him or something. But Sidney asks him about the book he's been reading slowly but surely through and Geno steals half of Jamie's toast when he thinks Jamie isn't paying attention. It's alarmingly normal. 

He takes a shower after they've eaten, envious of Sidney's ridiculously large tub with its built in jets, and throws on yesterday's clothes. Sidney had offered him replacements- 71 branded clothes that still would have been too small- but it's not like Jamie's doing his walk of shame in public. He kind of wishes he were, in the lizard part of his brain that wants to show off. In the light of day, it almost doesn't feel real. 

He had a threesome with Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin. Jesus. 

Eventually, he does have to go. Geno waves him off, already headed upstairs for an afternoon nap, but Sidney helps him gather up his coat and shoes, walks with him to the door, chatting idly about the next team get together. Jamie hugs him after he puts his coat on. Sidney Crosby is the weirdest person he's ever met in his life, and he's more than ready to get used to it. 

"I'm really glad you're here." Sidney pauses for a moment and shakes his head as he steps back. "I mean, for the sex, yeah, but also you're a good player and a good guy and I'm glad you're on the team." 

"Me too," Jamie says. He really is, too. He likes hanging out with the guys. He feels like a real fucking hockey player for the first time in a long time. 

He _fits_.

**Author's Note:**

> Man. I used to be able to just pop out 2k pwp fics like ot was no problem and I thought that this was going to be one of those but, uh, that didn't happen. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to join me on the [tumblr.](http://notyourlovesong.tumblr.com)


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